Dolbaden
by Joram
Summary: *Slash* Actor/Garrison. A mission goes wrong.


****

Dolbaden

The wind whistled through the trees, sending a few last tenacious leaves swirling to the soft ground. A curtain of rain moved inexorably across the horizon, soaking a landscape already wet through. Watching it sweep away from them with a jaundiced eye, Garrison shivered mutely and hunched down further into his jacket, cursing the elements, the mission, the persistent head cold he had been suffering from for several days and their now departed pilot.

"When we get back I'm gonna kill him. Damn Limeys," a voice growled from behind him.

"Can it, Casino," Garrison ordered shortly, tired of safecracker's incessant grumbling, much though he agreed with the sentiment. Given half a chance he would be only too glad to throttle their pilot, too. Impossible flying weather over their landing zone had forced the Gorillas to parachute out early but, although their pilot had assured them they were only off by a few miles, when they landed Garrison had discovered that his assertion had been over optimistic. By a long way. According to his reckoning, they had more than ten miles to go, over some of the roughest terrain in the area. Through forest, hills and water, all the while battling against what felt like a force nine gale.

And to cap it all was the river. Garrison had been conscious for some time of the sound of water nearby and, pushing through one final tangle of undergrowth and trees, he came face to face with it. Although obviously there had been a bridge once, all that remained were posts at either side.

"Oh great. Just what we need," Casino groused, staring at the sight in dismay.

"Any way round?" Chief asked as Garrison pulled out his map, hunching over it with the torch.

The lieutenant was silent for a while as he studied the map, tracing routes in his mind and then shook his head. "There's a road bridge about five miles down river but that will take us way off course. Besides, I don't want to risk travelling on the roads. We'll have to cross here," he decided, tucking the map away in his pocket again.

"You mean we've got to wade through a raging torrent," Goniff said unenthusiastically.

"Unless you've got any other ideas, yes," Garrison told him, understanding all too well his lack of enthusiasm. Although the river was hardly the raging torrent that Goniff had called it, swollen by rain it was running fast, white water breaking over concealed rocks. 

"How about going home?" Actor suggested and, when Garrison ignored him, complained to no-one in particular, "What happened to the nice civilised jobs we used to do, like robbing banks?"

"We robbed them all," Garrison answered absently as he moved down to the river bank, walking upriver a few yards, looking for the best place to cross. Chief followed him.

"What about here?" the Indian suggested, putting out a hand to halt Garrison.

Craig nodded. "Good a place as any," he decided, gingerly sliding down the bank, breath hissing sharply as icy cold water came up over his knees. He moved forward a few paces, carefully feeling his way as the surprisingly strong current tried to tug his feet from out underneath him. Twenty feet suddenly seemed a long way.

"Okay, guys, move it," he ordered over his shoulder and waited until at least Chief and Goniff were in the water before moving forward again. "Watch your footing. The bank's slippery," he added as he heard a splash and Actor cursing.

"Thank you, Warden. I just discovered that," the conman said sarcastically.

Grinning at his lover's disgruntled tone, Garrison was momentarily distracted and, putting a foot down unwarily, felt his ankle turn under him as he stumbled into a hole. Arms windmilling madly, he tried to catch his balance but couldn't and suddenly found himself under water.

"Warden!"

A hand grabbed the back of his jacket and Chief helped haul him up as he scrambled to his feet, coughing up water.

"Are you okay?"

Catching his breath, Garrison swore virulently. "Yeah, I'm okay," he reassured the others shakily, biting back a gasp of pain as a bolt of fire shot up his leg when he put his weight on it. "The bottom drops here," he warned through gritted teeth, gingerly feeling his way forward again, water swirling round his thighs. Reaching the far bank without further mishap, Garrison pulled himself out of the icy river gratefully, sprawling out on his back for a moment. He sat up as the others pulled themselves out of the water, too. Actor squatted beside him.

"You okay?" he checked, solicitously, resting a hand on Garrison's leg.

Unable to speak for a moment as a cough racked his body, Garrison nodded. "I'm okay," he finally wheezed. "Just swallowed water," he added, making no mention of the pain flaring through his leg. As Actor turned away to check on the others, he ran a surreptitious hand down his lower leg, unsurprised to feel it come away wet with more than just water. Stumbling into the hole, he had come down hard onto the rocks lurking just below the surface and, even through the numbing effects of the icy water, had felt the viciously sharp rock tear into his leg. He didn't think it was a particularly serious wound, however, and, painful though it was, it certainly wasn't bad enough to stop him walking. Indeed, the flow of blood was already slowing.

Garrison shivered and sneezed, cursing the weather. They needed to get out of the rain and dried off before they all came down with flu.

"Okay, guys, ready to go?" he asked, looking around at the Gorillas as they slumped on the ground around him. 

"How much further?" Goniff asked plaintively.

"A couple of miles," Garrison estimated. "As soon as we get away from the trees, we should be able to see the tower."

"Tower," Casino snorted. "We've had some lousy safehouses in our time but an ancient castle... Why can't we stay in the village?"

"Because Dolbaden happens to be in the middle of Germany," Actor reminded him, holding a hand out to pull Garrison up. "Are you sure you're alright?" he checked again as the younger man leant against him for a minute, gathering his strength.

"I'm fine," the lieutenant said shortly, turning away. "Let's get going."

* * *

Garrison staggered the last few yards up to the tower, his legs feeling like jelly as he forced his protesting body against the stiff wind that whistled across the exposed headland and around the medieval ruin. Sinking down inside by the wall, Garrison blessed those long ago builders for their thoroughness as the sound of wind and rain was immediately curtailed by the thick stone walls. He fumbled in his pack for a torch as Chief shoved the half-rotten wooden door closed, plunging the windowless room into darkness, and swung it around, inspecting their temporary quarters with little enthusiasm.

"It's a dungeon," Casino griped.

"No, actually I believe this was used as a store-room," Actor corrected him mildly. "Though I have to agree it bears a striking resemblance to a dungeon," he added, a look of distaste twisting his face.

"There should be supplies from the partisans stashed upstairs somewhere," Garrison said wearily, not moving from his slumped position beside what appeared to be a bricked up arrow slit.

"Upstairs?" Casino echoed, looking around the circular room blankly for anything that resembled a staircase.

"By the door," Goniff told him smugly. "They go up inside the walls. Me dad took me to Wales once on holiday when I was a lad," he explained at they turned to look at him in surprise. "I think we went up every castle in the bloomin' country," he said gloomily. "'Ere, I'll show you," he added as the safecracker showed no signs of moving. "Come on, Chiefy. Give us an 'and."

Grabbing his own torch, he disappeared from view, the others following reluctantly.

"Stairs! You call these stairs. They're a death trap. If I break my neck on them, Warden..."

Garrison felt a smile twitching at his lips as Casino's wail reached him. Actor met his eyes with a grin of his own. "I don't think Casino's too pleased with this job, Lieutenant."

"Tough," Garrison said unsympathetically. "He's never happy." He bit off what he was going to say as he felt a shiver run through him and clenched his teeth tightly to stop the racking cough.

The conman studied him closely in the poor light, alarmed by the flushed face and barely concealed shudders running through the slim frame. He crouched down beside Garrison and laid a hand on the other man's shoulder. "Are you alright, Craig?" he asked quietly, concern for his lover radiating from every pore.

Reluctant to let Actor know just how lousy he was feeling, Garrison just shrugged, leaning briefly into the warmth offered by the older man, glad to be spared the necessity of answering as the other Gorillas found their way back into the room, Goniff leading the way with the torch while Casino and Chief staggered behind, laden down with assorted bundles.

"There's blankets, clothes," Goniff reported. "And Chief's got a stove and a couple of lanterns so we can at least heat this place a bit."

"Good," Garrison said, pushing himself to his feet with a conscious effort, concealing a wince as he put his weight on his injured leg. "Hold that a moment." He gave Actor his torch and rummaged in his backpack, pulling out night vision glasses. "See if you can get this place a bit more habitable. I want to take a quick look around outside."

"In this weather?" Goniff said. "Who the hell's going to be out on a night like this? Except us."

Garrison shrugged. "No-one I hope."

"I'll come with you," Chief offered.

Garrison's immediate reaction was to refuse, no point them both going out into the storm again but then, stifling another cough, changed his mind. Just as much as he, Chief liked to know their immediate surroundings wherever they were. "Okay," he agreed. "We won't be long," he added to Actor, conscious even in the near dark of his disapproval. Much as he loved the other man, there were times when he felt Actor was too inclined to wrap him up in cotton wool. 

Without waiting for the conman's acknowledgement, Garrison pushed his way out into the night again, his breath catching as the stinging wind and rain slapped him in the face. Behind him he heard Chief curse as he stumbled on the uneven ground, the wet grass and scattered stones perilous underfoot. Crouching in the lee of one of the low stone walls that was all that remained of the rest of the castle, Garrison pulled out the binoculars and took his first look at their target set in the opposite hillside. 

He felt his heart sink. Surrounded by steep cliffs on three sides and protected by a river on the fourth, most of the base being under water, it looked even more formidable in real life than it had on paper back at the manor. Ostensibly it was a hydro-electric power station but according to the resistance the Nazis were also using it as a missile research lab and were in the process of creating a new, more powerful weapon. Their job was to get inside and take pictures of the plans, preferably destroying the station on the way out as it had proved impossible for the RAF to bomb it. If the partisans had done their job, getting in wouldn't be a problem. Getting out might be another matter altogether. 

He handed the glasses to Chief and waited while the Indian scanned the area.

"That's it?" Chief said incredulously.

Garrison nodded. "That's it. Dolbaden power station."

"Don't want much, do they?" Chief said in disgust.

Garrison shrugged. "Let's head back. I've seen enough for the moment," he said, groping his way along the walls to the tower.

When they got back, the others had already set up their impromptu camp, the inevitable and usually undrinkable tea brewing on the small paraffin stove, a couple of lamps lighting the place somehow making it look even more depressing. Goniff had spread the tarpaulins on the ground, trying to ease some of the damp and chill that emanated from the packed earth and Garrison sank down on it gratefully, easing the weight from his leg. Even though the wound wasn't serious, it throbbed constantly, shooting pain up his leg whenever he put his weight on it. His knee was bothering him, too.

"Here." Garrison felt a familiar buzz of emotion surge through him as Actor approached, a steaming mug in one hand and a bundle in the other. He accepted the tea with a tired smile, unaware of quite how much of the love he felt for this man showed on his face and swallowed a mouthful of the steaming brown liquid, grateful as its burning warmth soothed his raw throat and seared a path to his stomach. He watched as Actor shook out the bundle of clothes.

"They're not exactly Savile Row," the Italian said whimsically, "but at least they're drier than the ones you've got on."

Setting the mug down reluctantly, Garrison pushed himself to his feet with an effort and fumbled for the buttons on his jacket, the encroaching warmth from the stove making him feel progressively more lousy as every moment passed. Not in the best of health even at the start of the mission, the cold and rain hadn't helped and being dunked in the river had been the last straw. His chest felt tight and he was chilled to the bone, shivering now that he was no longer moving.

Seeing that he was making little progress, Actor pushed aside his hands. "Here, let me," he ordered softly.

"I can manage," Garrison protested sharply, aware that the other three were watching them and uncomfortable with the thought of appearing so helpless in front of the Gorillas. Although it was tacitly understood among the squad that he and Actor were involved, Garrison had never really allowed himself to relax his rigid barriers in front of them.

"I know you can," Actor soothed him. "But you'll be dry and warm a lot quicker if you let me help. Ignore them," he added in a louder voice as he caught sight of the Gorillas watching them. Reacting to his tone they turned away, pulling on dry clothes of their own.

Knowing that he was right Garrison acquiesced stiffly, allowing the conman to strip him, his mouth quirking as he remembered the last time his lover had performed that service for him. Quashing the thought before it could get out of hand, Garrison hastily pulled on the proffered clothes, suddenly feeling a lot warmer. He sank down on the floor again, pulling on a pair of socks but leaving his sodden boots to one side in the vain hope that they might dry out a bit overnight.

Halfway through his own rapid change, Actor saw a grimace of pain flash across Garrison's face. "Don't get too comfortable," he warned only half in jest. "I want to have a look at your leg. Don't deny that you've hurt it. I saw you limping," he accused.

"It'll be okay," Garrison assured him tightly. "I just scraped it a bit."

Actor shot him a disbelieving look. "Really? Then you won't mind showing me, will you?"

Garrison grimaced but rolled up his trouser leg. He didn't have the energy to argue with Actor. "You're pushing it," he warned the conman softly as Actor pulled the lantern closer to inspect the damage. They had agreed when they first became lovers that their personal relationship would not change their working one but it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep the two separate.

"I know," Actor admitted. "But don't blow this out of proportion, Warden. If any of the others were hurt, I'd be doing the same for them, too and you know it."

He examined the leg as he spoke, assessing the damage the sharp rocks had done. There was a nasty looking gash on Garrison's calf but it wasn't as bad as it had first appeared once the blood was washed away and Actor merely taped a small dressing over it after dusting it with sulphur to cut down the risk of infection. What was more worrying, however, was the rapidly swelling knee. Actor probed the joint.

"That hurt?" he asked as Craig gasped.

"Yes," Garrison hissed through his teeth as he tried to bite back the cough that his gasp had triggered.

"Easy, easy," Actor soothed, a hand rubbing Garrison's back as the American leant against him, coughs racking through him.

"You alright, Warden?" Goniff asked anxiously, coming to peer diffidently over Actor's shoulder.

Garrison nodded. "I'm okay," he finally wheezed. "Just still breathing river water," he joked. "What's wrong with the knee?" he asked Actor, trying to distract everyone's attention away from his struggle for breath. 

The Italian continued poking at it for a few more moments and then reached for the medical kit again, pulling out bandages. "I think you twisted it when you fell. I'll strap it up to stop it swelling too much but that's about all I can do. What you really need is to rest it," he added, looking up at Garrison for a moment. "But I don't suppose you'll do that, will you?"

"And abandon the mission? You must be kidding," Casino interjected sarcastically. "The Warden won't even do that when he's full of bullet holes." 

"You got it, Casino," Garrison agreed, leaning on Actor's shoulder as he stood to test his weight on the knee. He hobbled a few steps, stiff legged and grimaced. "I can't move like this," he complained. "It'll have to come off tomorrow."

Actor sighed but, having expected no less, merely nodded. "So long as you keep off it until then," he compromised.

Garrison nodded and sank down again by the stove. He shivered and huddled gratefully down into the blanket that Chief silently handed him. 

"So what now, Lieutenant?" Goniff asked, peering out from his own blanket.

"Now we wait. We were supposed to meet out contact here tonight but we're late. I'll go down into town in the morning." Garrison glanced at his watch in the dim light. "That gives us about five hours, so until then get some sleep," he ordered. "I'll take first watch."

Chief opened his mouth to protest - Garrison needed the sleep more than any of them - but then met the lieutenant's steely gaze and conceded. "Wake me in a couple of hours," he insisted before rolling himself in his blanket and falling asleep almost immediately.

Actor waited until Casino and Goniff had settled under their blankets before turning down the paraffin lamps to a bare glimmer so that the room was lit only by the stove and then sat down beside Garrison. Safe from prying eyes in the darkness, Garrison shuffled closer until they were sitting shoulder to shoulder. Actor draped an arm around him, encouraging Garrison to lean against him in a loose, comfortable embrace.

"You should get some sleep," Garrison told him softly.

The conman shook his head. "I'll sit up awhile. I'm not tired yet. Tell me about the mission," he ordered. "Who's the contact?"

Garrison let the lie pass, secretly glad for his lover's company. "His name is Karl Erlenmeyer. He's the town doctor and leader of the resistance in this area. His wife's brother is foreman of one of the work crews at the plant."

"Can we trust him?"

Garrison shrugged. "Of course. He's been checked out by Intelligence."

"He's German though," Actor said.

"So?" Garrison countered. "That doesn't make him a Nazi. You're Italian but you're not a fascist."

"That's different, I'm American now. But I get your point," he conceded. "Still, I don't like working with the Germans. It always makes me uneasy."

"I know but at the moment there's no reason to think that he isn't as trustworthy as anyone else we've worked with."

"Why doesn't that reassure me?" Actor asked whimsically.

Garrison smiled as Actor had intended. "Because you're a suspicious bastard and you don't trust anyone."

"Except you. And them," Actor added, nodding towards the sleeping forms of the Gorillas. "So what's the plan?"

"We go in as civilian workers, again. Casino and I find the plans while the rest of you set time-delayed charges and then we get the hell out."

"Simple as that?"

"Yeah."

"Something will go wrong. It always does when we get a straightforward job."

"Cynic," Garrison accused fondly.

"Realist," he corrected. "Bless you," he added as Garrison sneezed.

"Bloody nose," Garrison mumbled, snuffling into the corner of his blanket.

Actor watched him in concern as he began shivering again and reached out to lay a cool hand on his forehead. Garrison jerked away but not before Actor felt the burning heat. "You're running a temperature."

Garrison was stubbornly silent for a few minutes and then subsided back against Actor's shoulder. "I know. But there's not much I can do about that either."

"You can sit this one out. Let us do the work," Actor suggested without much hope that the lieutenant would agree.

Garrison shook his head. "You know I can't."

They lapsed into silence, sitting together companionably in the dark, each sunk in their own thoughts. Periodically Garrison's body was shaken by coughs that he did his best to stifle, his harsh breathing sounding loud in the quiet of the night. After a while Actor felt the weight on his shoulder slump a little more and realised that Garrison had finally fallen into a feverish doze.

"I'll take the watch." Chief's quiet voice came out of the darkness, followed by the man himself. He squatted down beside them for a minute, brushing his hand momentarily down Garrison's cheek. "Is he going to be alright?"

Faintly surprised by the tenderness of the gesture, Actor shrugged one shouldered. "With a banged up knee and flu? We'll get around it, same as we always do," he told Chief with a brief, conspiratorial smile. The Indian returned it. Between the two of them, Garrison didn't stand a chance.

Actor pulled Garrison closer and manoeuvred both their bodies until they were lying down, the younger man's head resting on his shoulder. His look dared Chief to comment as Garrison snuggled into the warmth offered by the body shielding his but the Indian only smiled and retreated to his preferred post by the door as Actor pulled his lover closer and, tucking the blankets around him firmly, dropped a tender kiss on his forehead.

It still amazed him sometimes that Garrison was his lover. At first glance, he was all West Point spit and polish, career military through and through but that look was deceptive, though few of his colleagues seemed to realise it. Actor had suspected it right from their first mission, that searing flash of anger in Garrison's eyes when the conman had called him stewardess aboard the plane giving him some indication that the army officer wasn't as straight laced as he appeared. By the time they got home, he was convinced of it. Craig Garrison was a man after his own heart. A man who saw a good con not just as a means to an end but a joy in itself. He had been drawn to the younger man by their similarities of personality, finding that he had more in common with Garrison than with the other Gorillas, much though he was liked and understood them.

He hadn't really expected that kindred to turn into love but somewhere along the line, the Italian discovered that he was in love with Garrison. An avowed lady-killer, he was nonetheless not totally inexperienced where men were concerned and it hadn't taken him long to realise that he wanted Garrison in his bed. What he had never expected was Garrison to return the interest. Oh, he knew that the American was a rogue in his own way and that, although he did consider all four of them to be friends, he had an unspoken, though recognised, partiality for Actor but he hadn't thought that Garrison had any leanings towards sexual deviancy. The man just seemed all too apple-pie American straight for that. It had come as a distinct shock, therefore, when he realised that Garrison was making moves on _him..._

* * *

Garrison sighed with near silent relief as Goniff at last chattered his way out of the room, Casino and Chief hot on his heels. For a while he had thought that they were going to spend their entire leave cluttering up his office floor but the delights of London had finally beckoned. He shouldn't really have granted them unsupervised leave - the Brass still considered them cons - but it was the only way that he could think of getting them from under his feet. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate their concern but he was fully recovered from the beating he had taken on their last mission and he was sick of being treated like fragile porcelain, his every move watched over. Besides which, he had an ulterior motive. One which was sitting watching him with an amused, and speculative, look on his face

"Blessed peace, at last."

Garrison's mouth quirked into a grin as he met Actor's look. The conman was lounging on the wide window ledge, book leaning on one updrawn knee, placidly smoking his pipe.

"I know. I thought I'd go crazy if I didn't get some peace and quiet for a few days," he admitted.

"They were worried about you, that's all. So was I," Actor added, not really needing to say it but just wanting to remind Garrison that he did care about him, even if he never dared to tell the younger man what he really felt. If it had been anyone but Garrison, Actor would have taken his chances and approached the man months ago, willing to risk everything on the gut instinct that rarely failed to tell him when someone returned his interest. But this was Garrison, his friend and commander and he was reluctant to ruin what they already had if he had read the signals wrong.

"Yeah but with you I can relax. What are you reading?" Garrison asked, coming to lean against the other side of the window. He knew perfectly well what the book was but it gave him a perfect starting point for the conversation he wanted to have with the older man.

Actor tilted the spine in his direction, one finger carefully marking his page, obligingly swinging his foot to the floor to make room for Garrison to sit beside him.

"Pickwick Papers." Garrison tried not to let his opinion show in his voice but Actor picked it up nonetheless.

"Warden," he chided. "You don't like Dickens?"

Garrison grimaced. "Frankly, no. He bored me to death at school as a teenager and I've never had the urge to try again since."

"Boring? Long-winded, I'll grant you but boring? No. Not with his descriptions. I almost feel as though I've been the places he describes."

"And have you?" Garrison asked, blessing the turn of the conversation. "East Anglia," he elaborated, gesturing at the book at Actor's look of enquiry.

It was the Italian's turn to grimace. "Once. I suppose Ipswich is very nice if you're into small and rural but the natives are not at all friendly to outsiders and good society is non-existent," he pronounced damningly.

"I take it the locals were not impressed by your suave Italian charm," Garrison surmised with a laugh, privately thinking that the residents of Suffolk must have been blind or as thick as two short planks not to appreciate Actor's sheer presence. The man brought a touch of foreign glamour wherever he went.

"You really ought to give Dickens a second chance. It's really very good once you get into it," Actor said, reverting abruptly to their previous topic. His mercifully brief sojourn in the backwaters of East Anglia was not something he cared to recall too closely.

"So is Suffolk," Garrison assured him blithely.

Actor frowned at the apparent non sequitur. He was sure Garrison was leading up to something and that, from the way he had been so patently anxious for the other Gorillas to leave but yet was sitting here chatting with him as though he had all the time in the world, it probably involved him.

"You must know it better than I do then," he commented, raising an interrogative brow.

Garrison obliged him with an explanation. "A friend of mine's got a summer house on the coast. I've a standing invitation to make use of it anytime I like. It's quiet, peaceful. No telephone. A long way from London," he added persuasively, watching Actor hopefully, a touch of colour tingeing his cheeks.

"What are you up to, Warden?" Actor asked him bluntly, a sudden hitherto hopeless suspicion coming into his head.

Garrison gave a crack of laughter and ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head in despair. "I'm really making a pig's ear out of this, aren't I?" he sighed rhetorically. "I'm asking you to come away with me for a few days by the sea," he blurted out suddenly, nervously chewing at his lip as he waited for Actor's reaction. He had seen the conman watching him more and more lately, a wistful expression on his face that was hastily wiped away as soon as he realised that he was observed. It had given Garrison hope that his feelings were returned but he had realised that, if ever they were to get together, he would have to make the first move.

Actor blinked at him. "Why?" he asked tautly, disbelief running through him. Surely Garrison couldn't mean that the way it sounded?

Instead of answering, Garrison closed the distance between them and, before the other man could move, pulled his head down to kiss him. For a bare moment stunned surprise held the conman still and then, without breaking the kiss, he wrapped his arms around Garrison's waist and pulled him closer. That first kiss was soft, almost tentative, but then Garrison pressed closer still, moulding his body to the other man's, deepening the contact. Actor felt heat running through his body, centring on his groin. He hadn't turned on that fast for years just from a kiss. Breathlessly, they pulled apart and their eyes met, dark and hazy from passion and Actor felt the colour rise to his face at the expression on Garrison's face. He closed in for another kiss, hands skimming down Garrison's back, pulling his hips closer, feeling his arousal pressing urgently against his own.

Garrison murmured low in his throat as the conman's mouth left his and trailed downwards, dropping butterfly kisses across his jaw and throat. Needing to feel his lover closer still, he pulled away momentarily, leading Actor over to the big leather couch and pulling the man down beside him. They pressed back together again, sharing frantic kisses, both unable to get enough of each other. Garrison plucked at the other man's shirt, desperate to feel his skin against his own and finally succeeded in unbuttoning it. He ran reverent hands over the tautly muscled chest and followed them with his mouth. 

Actor, almost incoherent with the pleasure Garrison's mouth was giving him, gasped and followed suit, still hardly daring to believe that this wasn't a dream, a fantasy like the ones that had kept him company on so many lonely nights. That it really was Craig Garrison in his arms, hot and aroused, wanting him. His touch strayed lower, fingers moulding delicately to the straining erection he could feel pulsing against his own. Garrison moaned, head tossing distractedly on the cushions, urging the other man on.

"Oh, god, oh god…" It was a muttered litany of passion, enflaming them both.

Somewhere close by in the manor a door slammed and Garrison started abruptly, reluctantly tearing himself away from his lover with a muffled sob. In the joy of being able to touch at last, he had forgotten that they weren't alone in the building and that at any second someone could come barging into the room. 

"Christ, we can't do this here," he muttered in frustration, sitting up and running a shaky hand through his hair, trying to pull his clothes into some semblance of decent order. He didn't dare look at Actor for fear of losing control again. Where the conman was concerned, he didn't seem to have any restraint.

Actor, brought back to his senses, too, followed suit, feeling more shaken by the encounter than he could ever remember feeling before. He was no stranger to passion but rarely had he ever lost control so quickly and completely as he had just done with Garrison, uncaring that they were in a public place and of the consequences of being discovered. He knew now, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he was in love with Garrison. In love, as he had never been before.

Sinking down in his chair, the big desk safely between him and the temptation sitting limply on the sofa, Garrison took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to control the tremors of arousal he could still feel coursing through his body. "I take it that was a yes," he finally said.

Actor laughed breathlessly. "Would you believe me if I said no?" he teased, a soft smile lighting his face up. 

"No." Garrison returned the smile, happiness bubbling through him, certain now that Actor was just as interested as he was.

"Good because it was a very definite yes. I'm not letting you get away from me now," Actor avowed. "Not ever."

Garrison looked at him, suddenly serious. "Do you mean that?" he asked and waited anxiously for the answer. He knew that the sexual attraction between them was strong and that Actor felt it just as much as he did but whether it was love on Actor's side he didn't know. As far as he was concerned, Actor was the one person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with but he wasn't sure that the other man wanted the same thing.

"I mean it," Actor said simply. "I know I've never committed myself to anyone or anything in my life before but I love you. I'm in love with you," he corrected himself. "I don't want any man but you."

"And the women?" Garrison probed.

"They were pleasant diversions. I like them but I've never met one I ever contemplated marrying. But you ... I can't picture my life now without you in it and I don't want to."

The simple declaration caught at Garrison's emotions and he smiled joyfully. "Just as well because I have no intention of sharing you with anyone, certainly not a woman. I don't take relationships casually," he warned. "I'm liable to get jealous as hell if you even so much as look at anyone else."

"All or nothing?" Actor said, pleased and excited by Garrison's possessiveness.

"Definitely all," Garrison said firmly. 

* * *

The journey to Felixstowe passed in an agony of impotent impatience, surrounded as they were by people of the crowded train, lightened only by the need to change trains at Ipswich. With a couple of hours to kill before their connection they wandered the town, Actor keeping both of them amused with wickedly scathing comments and doubtlessly apocryphal tales from his previous visit. Eventually they re-boarded the train (only running ten minutes late) and trundled the last few miles to the coast, this time blessedly having the carriage all to themselves. Ingrained caution had prevented them from doing anything except sit shoulder to shoulder but the sexual tension smouldering between them would have been unmistakable to anyone observing them.

Disembarking at the station, Garrison shouldered his bag and hunched down into his coat as the chill east wind whistled along the exposed platform. It might well have been May but the contrary British weather made it feel more like March. He shivered and then, meeting Actor's look, felt a shiver of an entirely different kind run through his body at the heat in the other man's gaze. His mouth quirked into a smile. They'd both be warm soon enough.

"This way," he said, leading the way out of the station. "It's only about half a mile." 

They walked through the town, heading for the sea front. The big, sprawling house was separated from the cliff edge only by the road and its own gardens. A balcony ran along the upper floor and a veranda along the lower. 

Actor was impressed. "Rich friend," he commented as Garrison dug in his pocket for the keys.

"He married money."

"Lucky guy."

Garrison shook his head. "Not really," he said, dropping his bag in the hall and leading the way into the airy front room. He turned to face Actor. "I'd rather have someone I love. Like you," he added, drawing the other man towards him.

Actor bent his head for the kiss, letting Garrison take the lead for the moment as he savoured the warmth of this man in his arms and gave free reign to his feelings at last, revelling in the love he felt. "I can hardly believe we're here," he said as the kiss ended, leaving them both breathless. "I've wanted you for a long time, almost from the start but I never thought I'd ever get you. I thought you went for women."

Garrison shrugged, answering the question that Actor hadn't quite asked. "I like women but I prefer men. I always have. You're not my first," he said candidly, almost wishing that he was.

Actor hugged him close, hearing the note of regret in his voice. "Then we'll both know what we're doing," he said reassuringly. "Besides, I'd rather be your last."

They kissed again, tongues duelling for supremacy, each taking control and giving way in turn, bodies rubbing together in an increasingly erotic dance.

"Bed," Garrison muttered hoarsely in Actor's ear, aware that if they didn't move now they would end up making love right there on the floor. He pulled away slightly, far enough to meet Actor's eyes, dark and hazy with passion and felt himself colour at the look in the other man's eyes.

Actor laughed deep in his throat and pressed a soft kiss on Garrison's cheek, enchanted by his lover's blush. "Bed," he agreed, taking the hand that Garrison held out to him, delighting in even that simple touch, and let himself be lead up the stairs to the bedroom.

As he pushed the door closed behind him, Garrison felt a faint glimmer of apprehension. He loved Actor, wanted him badly, but it had been a while since he had last been involved with anyone, man or woman. After Ralph had been shot down and killed coming home from a night bombing raid over northern France, he had made a conscious decision not to become involved with anyone else, afraid not only of his own pain at losing someone he cared for but also of inflicting that pain if he should be killed as seemed all too likely at times. With Actor, however, involved as they were on a daily basis, the feelings were too strong to resist and, truthfully, he didn't want to. They would watch each other's backs.

Actor noticed the hesitation. "What's wrong?" he asked, afraid that Garrison was having second thoughts.

Meeting the anxious eyes, Garrison felt his hesitation melt away. He loved this man so much. He pushed away from the door and moved towards Actor. "Nothing's wrong, love. Just admiring the view," he said with a smile, hand reaching out to brush tenderly down the Italian's cheek, shivering as Actor turned his head into the caress and, capturing the hand in his own, laid a kiss in his palm.

"Love you." Actor's hands were busy with the buttons of Garrison's uniform, peeling him out of the close fitting jacket and attacking the white shirt underneath. Garrison shrugged out of it as soon as the buttons were undone, his own hands going to Actor's own clothes but the conman pushed them away, tugging instead at the undershirt that Garrison wore, pulling it over his head.

Craig shed the shirt in a hurry, excitement curling through his body as Actor's hands skimmed over his chest, his nipples tightening as thumbs caressed them. He sucked in a sharp breath when he felt his lover's mouth on his skin brushing light butterfly kisses across his collar bones and moving steadily downwards. His hands locked on Actor's shoulders as the older man knelt and that feather touch reached his groin and lingered.

"Actor," he groaned, pleading for the touch.

The conman smiled hazily up at Garrison, seeing the sharp pleasure etched in every line of the taut body. Slowly he reached up to unzip Garrison's trousers, pushing them and the underwear down his hips to allow the engorged cock to spring free. He leaned forward to take it in his mouth, eagerly kissing and licking his way along it, Garrison's throaty moans and clenching fingers spurring him on.

"Yessss," Garrison gasped as Actor's talented mouth teased and caressed, demanding he surrender control of his shuddering body with every movement. Fingers caressed his ass and thighs and then crept forward to toy with his tightening balls, pushing him over the edge with a harsh cry of completion. He tried to pull away as he came but Actor held him in place, greedily taking everything he had.

Garrison swayed as his lover pulled away and then was steadied as Actor got to his feet, pulling him into a tight embrace. He kissed Actor deeply, tasting his own seed in the other man's mouth, a great surge of love for the Italian rushing through him. He became aware of Actor's own arousal pressing against him and pulled away to shed the remains of his clothes, halting Actor's instinctive murmur of protest with another kiss before starting on the conman's own shirt. Actor let himself be stripped then pulled Garrison towards the big bed.

Garrison pulled back for a moment, watching Actor sprawl out. "Beautiful," he murmured, eyes raking over the body that was his for the asking, settling on the rosy cock begging for his touch. He smiled. Time to give his lover back some of the pleasure he had received. He settled beside Actor, mouth and hands sweeping down the exposed body, drawing sighs of pleasure, finally reaching his target.

Actor's body bucked off the bed as he felt Garrison's mouth close over him, nibbling his way down, tongue lapping at his sensitised balls. Coherent thought fled before the onslaught and he gave himself up to the feelings coursing through his body, fire licking at his nerve endings. The climax, when it came, was shattering, leaving him floating in a blissful haze.

Garrison drank down the last of Actor's seed, letting the limp cock slide out of his mouth, and sank down beside his lover. Actor turned dark eyes on him. Garrison met the dazed look and smiled, lacing his fingers through the Italian's, bringing them to his mouth in a gentle caress.

"What are you thinking?" Actor asked him softly, curious to know what was going on behind that smile.

Garrison leant over him, dropping his head to kiss him thoroughly. "That I'm glad you were in prison," he finally answered as he pulled away. "I'd never have met you otherwise and that would have been a tragedy."

"No regrets then?" Actor checked seriously.

Garrison shook his head. "How could there be? I love you."

Actor felt the warmth of the declaration flow through him. "It's mutual," he murmured and pulled the younger man down into his arms again, tenderness soon turning into passion once more.

* * *

They spent hours rambling along the beach and headland, carefully avoiding the two Martello towers guarding the port, massive reminders of another long ago war, and the RAF base nestled behind them. No-one took any notice of them, they were just two more servicemen hunched down in great coats taking refuge for a few days from the hurly-burly of the war effort. The local people had become all too used to foreigners since the war began to be curious about two more, though the familiar British grumble about GI's overhead one morning in a café - 'over sexed, over paid and over here'- did have them both biting their lips and avoiding each others eyes for fear of laughing out loud. If only the woman had known that her daughters were in no danger from them! What time they didn't spend rambling, they spent in bed, making love and dozing and making love again until exhaustion set in and they slept, curled up around each other.

* * *

That had been in the spring, just before D-Day when the allies finally landed in mainland Europe and began the battle to take back France and the low countries. From then onwards, although the tide of war had changed in favour of the Allies and the end was ever increasingly in sight, their missions had become more perilous as they started operating within the German hinterland itself. Garrison had been hurt more in the last few months than in all the previous three years put together, though fortunately few of the wounds had been serious enough to even warrant hospital treatment. Nonetheless, Actor was worried about him. The continual, unremitting stress and danger was having an effect on him, as it was on all of them and since they had become lovers Actor knew that that too was weighing on Garrison. He had never shown by any word or action that he regretted the change in their relationship - indeed he had admitted more than once to Actor in moments of quiet honesty that their love was one of the few things holding his life together but the added worry and the necessity of keeping their relationship a secret from everyone did weigh on him. 

It worried Actor, too but, more used to deception, he hid it better. He would have liked to shout his feelings from the nearest rooftop but knew he couldn't. Whilst being a con his homosexual tendencies might be overlooked by the authorities, albeit with a feeling of disgust, Garrison, as an army officer, was faced by instant disgrace and a possible prison sentence should anyone discover them. The other Gorillas knew of course but that paranoid need for discretion meant that, even with them, there was some feeling of holding back, an ingrained unease about showing emotions. Neither of them were naive enough to suppose that there weren't other homosexual liaisons going on in the service - indeed, the British seemed far more sanguine about it than their American cousins - but discretion was the keyword. One simply did not have an affair with a man under one's command. To quote the English, it was simply Not Done. The fact that Actor was also a convict counted heavily against him. In the intelligence game that made him ideal blackmail material against Garrison.

Not that that particular spectre worried either of them - with the other Gorillas they were more than a match for anyone who tried it - but what did bother Actor was what would happen when the war ended. It could only be a matter of months at most now before the Germans were defeated and, with the end of the war, the end of their unit. Actor didn't delude himself into thinking that the army would have any use for them after that. They'd be given their paroles and sent of their way, whilst Garrison would be re-assigned. The lieutenant had often joked that the Gorillas were in the war for the duration and six months "just like other six million of us" but although most of those six million would be de-mobbed along with the Gorillas, Garrison was career military and he would not get his freedom, unless he resigned. It was not something they had talked about but Actor couldn't see Garrison living the sort of life that he did. The American might enjoy living on his wits, permissible during the war but he had a strong streak of morality and Actor didn't think he would be able to accept living on ill-gotten gains conned out of the unsuspecting in peacetime. Nor could he see himself doing anything else. He had been a conman, a thief, his entire life and while he could probably support himself by honest means, he didn't think he could live without the thrill of a con. The lure was too strong, too much a part of who he was. The prospect of separation on loomed over them.

With that thought in his mind, Actor pulled Garrison closer, running a possessive hand through the short hair, revelling in the familiar caress, turning it into a soothing rub as the harsh breathing faltered for a moment as the younger man shifted restlessly in his embrace. If all they had was a few more months, Actor was determined that at least they would both make it to the end, even if that meant over-ruling Garrison where his health and safety was concerned. The man had a very cavalier attitude towards that. At the beginning all four of the cons had wondered whether Garrison had some kind of death wish but it had soon become apparent that, given the choice between seeing one of his men hurt and taking the pain himself, Garrison would far rather take the pain. It was easier to deal with that than the guilt and the feeling that somehow he had let them down. He cared about them all a lot.

Secure in the knowledge that Chief would keep a good watch and worn out by the exertions of the night, Actor allowed himself to drift into sleep. He would need all his wits about him in the morning to deal with Garrison and the mission.

It felt like only minutes later when Casino's hand on his shoulder woke him but dull pre-dawn light was filtering into the room from the doorway which had been pulled open a few inches. Goniff was already up, pawing through their bags looking for breakfast and, as he watched, Chief emerged from his blanket where he had rolled himself after Casino had relieved him on watch, and slid outside. He returned a few minutes later, shaking his head when Casino asked him if there was any sign of movement.

"Great, so now what?" the cracksman groused tiredly at no-one in particular.

"Tea?" Goniff suggested brightly, holding up his tin mug. "And then ask the Warden," he added, looking over at the two men still lying together. They all knew Actor and Garrison were lovers - it was hard to keep anything secret from each other, let alone something that important - but this was the first time that they had been quite so open about it. Right from the start, all three of them had recognised the attraction between the their team-mates, long before either man had acknowledged it and had watched the progress of the affair with varying degrees of amusement, indulgence and frustration. Both he and Casino suspected that Chief had a thing for Garrison, too but they had said nothing, the Indian knowing as well they did that the lieutenant had eyes for no-one but Actor. He also suspected that Garrison knew about Chief's feelings because the Warden had been very hesitant breaking the news. 

Not that Goniff had needed to be told. He had witnessed it first hand. He would never tell Garrison or any of the others but he had gone back to the lieutenant's office that first afternoon, meaning to tell him something he had forgotten earlier, and seen the two men on the couch together. After a moment he had crept out again, a huge grin plastered across his face, carefully pulling the door closed silently after him but aware that he could probably have danced the hornpipe with accompanying brass band outside the room and still the two men wouldn't have noticed, so engrossed were they in each other. He was pleased for the Warden, for both of them, even if he didn't swing that way himself. Garrison needed someone.

"How is he?" he asked with concern as Garrison showed no signs of waking.

Actor eased himself away from his lover and accepted a mug from Casino, ignoring the question for a moment. He knelt beside Garrison, laying a hand on his clammy forehead and then gently shook him. "Warden?" 

Garrison came awake with a groan, reluctant to leave the comfort of sleep behind. "What time is it?" he croaked, propping himself on one arm and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Actor held out the tea and he took a sip, grateful that it went down without hurting his throat too much and then handed the mug back.

"Morning," the conman said. "A little before seven."

"Seven?!" Garrison exclaimed sharply. "Why the hell did you let me sleep? I was supposed to be keeping watch," he said with a glare, embarrassment tingeing his cheeks as he realised that they others must have seen them curled up together. He scrambled to his feet, biting back a whimper of pain as his knee, stiffened overnight, gave way. Actor caught his arm to steady him but Garrison shrugged him off sharply, forcing his leg to hold his weight as he limped stiffly to the door. He peered out.

"There's no-one around," Actor assured him.

"Then you won't mind if I have a look for myself, will you?" Garrison said snappily, pulling on his still sodden boots distastefully and grabbing up his field glasses. He felt lousy, hot and uncomfortable, every bone in his body aching fiercely and his temper suffered accordingly.

"For god's sake, Warden, leave it. You can hardly move and Chief has checked already," Actor exclaimed.

"Don't tell me what to do," Garrison snarled, glaring at the conman. He was sick of Actor overruling him. It was about time he learned just who was in charge here. "You haven't got the right." He pushed past and was out of the door before his tired mind registered the hurt on the other man's face. 

He crouched down behind the curtain wall with a groan. Chief had been right. There was no activity to be seen, the power station on the opposite shore appearing deserted. He had bitten off Actor's head for nothing, for no better reason than his own bad temper and embarrassment. Sure, the conman pushed his luck sometimes but he always had, jockeying with Garrison for command when he felt the lieutenant was wrong. It was only recently that Garrison had become sensitive to it, subconsciously afraid that now they were lovers he would lose his ability to command. Thinking back, Garrison realised that not once had Actor challenged him without good reason and that, knowing the man as intimately as he did, he would never dream of doing so. The only fault that Garrison could find was the Italian's somewhat obsessive concern with Garrison's health - a concern shared by the other Gorillas, he had to admit - and that would have to be curbed before it got in the way of the mission. Garrison rather thought he owed his lover an apology.

He limped back to the tower, immediately aware of the uncomfortable atmosphere in the room. His gaze went to Actor, calmly bundling their belongings up, his back firmly to the room. The others avoided his look, too, though he wasn't sure whether that was in disapproval or from embarrassment. He handed the glasses to Casino.

"Get everything packed up and out of sight," he told him. "We don't know who else might come up here."

Casino nodded and smiled encouragingly as Garrison's troubled look focused on Actor again. Garrison acknowledged it with a slight nod and then approached his lover, reaching out to halt his movements with a hand on his arm.

"Actor," he murmured softly, conscious of the three men watching.

"Lieutenant." The word was a slap in the face, used deliberately and coldly to set them apart. 

Garrison flinched, knowing that he had hurt Actor. His grip tightened for a moment and then slid down to hold the other's hand. Surprised by the openness of the touch, Actor finally looked at him and although his face was shuttered, Garrison read it with ease.

"I'm sorry," he told the Italian sincerely. "I didn't mean to take my temper out on you, love," he added, watching as some of the tension drained away from the other man's face at the endearment. "It's just ..."

"It's just that you don't like being fussed over," Actor finished for him. "And I fuss," he admitted with a rueful smile.

"Yeah and I appreciate it. But not when it interferes with the job," Garrison said firmly.

"Not even when you're too ill to complete the mission?" the conman asked pointedly, knowing that if any of the others were feeling as rough as Garrison, the lieutenant would have firmly barred them from any further part in the job.

"I know my limits, Actor. If I thought I was a liability, I'd scrub this here and now but I'm okay," Garrison assured him earnestly.

Actor privately doubted that but knew that no matter what he said Garrison would still take the job on. "Maybe," he conceded on a sigh. "But it doesn't mean I have to stop worrying about you, does it?" His voice was resigned.

Knowing that Actor had forgiven him as always, Garrison smiled and impulsively slid an arm around his lover's body, pulling him into a brief hug. He dropped a kiss on the startled man's cheek, suddenly feeling on top of the world. "Love you," he murmured into his ear and then turned away.

"What?" he barked, smile twitching on his lips, as he caught the Gorillas staring at him in astonishment.

"Nothing, baby," Casino said with a grin. "So what do we do now?"

"I'll go down into town and see our contact." He rubbed absently at his forehead, wishing that his head didn't feel as though it was stuffed with cotton wool. He snuffled and blew his nose but the relief was temporary as the congestion flowed back. "I hope nothing's gone wrong," he fretted, some of his cheerful mood evaporating. "Actor, you're with me," he ordered before the conman could protest. "The rest of you stay out of sight until we get back. Don't let anyone see you."

He shrugged into his heavy civilian jacket, glad for the warmth the high collar provided and set off towards the town with Actor at his side. The vicious storm of the previous night had thankfully passed but it was still dull and the wind bitter. Even going down the steep side of the castle mound carefully, Garrison still slipped several times on the treacherous ground underfoot, sodden from the night's rain, jarring his leg painfully. The knee was stiff and swollen and he could feel a trickle of blood where he had obviously torn open the scabbed gash in his calf. By the time they reached the road he was sweating freely, his breath tight in his chest but he pushed on, knowing that it wouldn't get any better even if he rested for a while. Actor tactfully didn't comment but offered a supporting hand that Garrison was glad to accept.

Even this early in the morning, the town was bustling with life, a sparse produce market setting up in the town square. Slowly wending their way amongst the stalls, they both kept a sharp eye out for any unusual activity but there didn't appear to be any. Only ordinary people going about their ordinary, everyday business. No soldiers, nothing suspicious.

"What now?" Actor asked quietly as they paused outside the local bank.

"We go see the doctor," Garrison decided after a moment of thought.

"First sensible idea you've had."

Garrison ignored the muttered remark. "We need to know what's going on. The doctor's the only one who can tell us," he said, heading back towards the square. They skirted the market, keeping a wary eye on a couple of men in uniform propping up the door of the town hall, and then strolled down one of the wide, tree lined avenues that characterised the apparently prosperous little town. Garrison stopped in front of a fine, four storey house, the middle of a terrace, the brass plaque beside the door proclaiming it to be the surgery of Dr Erlenmeyer.

Actor checked his watch and frowned. It was still a little before eight. "A bit early for the doctor to be working."

Garrison shrugged. "Can't be helped. I'm an emergency case," he said with a smile.

He walked up the path and rapped on the front door, noticing with sadness that, like the railings all along the street, even the wrought iron handrail was gone, taken to be melted down for weaponry. 

"Come on," Actor muttered impatiently as no-one answered, raising his hand to knock again. The echo had barely died away when the door opened a crack.

"Yes?" A young woman peered round the door nervously.

"We are here to see the doctor, fraulein," Actor said with one of his best smiles.

"He's not open yet," she said firmly and began to close the door. The conman put his foot in it.

"But, fraulein, it is an emergency. My friend here is really very ill," he said persuasively, gesturing at Garrison.

"But..." She looked at Garrison, leaning on Actor's shoulder and took in his flushed face and the shivers running through him. "Wait here," she finally decided. "I will go see if the doctor is available." She closed the door, leaving them standing on the step but was back a few minutes later. "Please follow me." 

She lead them down the hallway and ushered them into an austere waiting room, disappearing back into the room opposite. Before the door closed, Garrison had the impression of movement inside and heard voices, too low to understand clearly but the tone was urgent, worried. Garrison exchanged a look with Actor, both of them uneasy but then the door re-opened and the woman was beckoning them into the surgery.

The doctor was a surprisingly young man, maybe a little over thirty, and Garrison wondered for a moment how he had managed to escape conscription but as Erlenmeyer moved around the desk to greet them, realised that he hadn't. The doctor, leaning heavily on a stick, moved stiffly, his limp pronounced.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, gentlemen. I don't usually open the surgery until eight-thirty," he explained pleasantly. "Now what seems to be the matter?" he asked, seating himself on the edge of the desk and waving them to chairs placed in front of it.

Garrison, feeling all his aches and pains with a vengeance, sneezed, shivering violently in the comparative warmth of the room. "I think I have the flu," he said thickly. "I was caught out in the storm yesterday. The weather was fine when I left Bremen, still a hint of autumn in the air," he elaborated, watching the doctor intently as he gave the agreed password. 

The doctor looked at him sharply. "That's the trouble with the weather at this time of year. So changeable," he said, returning the recognition. "I think we'd better take your temperature," he added, producing a thermometer from his pocket and deftly popping it into Garrison's mouth. "Margot, would you prepare a soothing tisane for me please. Honey and lemon, I think."

He waited until the woman had left the room and then turned back to the two men. "Lieutenant Garrison?" he asked, his voice low.

Garrison nodded and removed the thermometer. "Dr Erlenmeyer."

"What happened? I expected you last night. You'd better put that back," he added, gesturing at the thermometer still in Garrison's hand. "You really do look ill."

Garrison complied reluctantly, much to Actor's amusement. "We really were caught in the storm," he mumbled around it shortly.

"He also took a dip in the river," Actor put in, ignoring Garrison's glare, determined to make the most of the opportunity to have Garrison checked out by a real doctor.

"Mmm." The doctor took the thermometer back and checked it. "A little high. Sore throat? Shivers?" he asked. 

Garrison nodded, miserably aware of both.

"Any other damage? You looked as though you were limping as you came in."

"I took a fall, wrenched my knee," Garrison admitted. "But I didn't come here as a patient. What news have you got for me?"

"Sorry," Erlenmeyer said with a smile. "But I'm a doctor and you do need my services. Let me have a look at your leg," he insisted firmly.

Bowing to the inevitable with an impatient sigh, Garrison rolled his trouser leg up.

"Did you do this?" Erlenmeyer asked Actor as he unwrapped the makeshift bandage and when Actor nodded added, "It's good work. Have you had training?"

Actor shook his head. "I just get lots of practice," he said, pointedly looking at the American officer.

"Doctor?" Garrison prompted impatiently. "Your information."

"The news is not good, I'm afraid, Lieutenant," Erlenmeyer finally answered, closely examining the puffy knee joint and the scabbed gash below it. "Peter!" he called abruptly.

Both Garrison and Actor had their guns in their hands as a door on the far side of the room opened and a man entered.

"It's alright," Erlenmeyer assured them hastily. "This is my brother-in-law, Peter Fursland. It's he who works at Dolbaden."

"Herr Fursland," Garrison nodded warily in greeting, slipping his gun back into the concealed shoulder holster.

"Peter has just told me that civilian workers are no longer being allowed into the plant," Erlenmeyer said.

"What?!" Garrison exclaimed. "When did this happen?"

"Yesterday," Peter said. "I work the night shift and when we arrived they told us that we would not be needed anymore. That this morning would be the last shift."

"Did they give any reason?"

"I was told by the shift supervisor that the station was being closed because it was no longer efficient to run."

Actor and Garrison shared a look. "Surely they didn't expect anyone to believe that," Actor said dubiously.

Peter shrugged. "No-one has any reason to doubt them. Your bombers have damaged large parts of the station and some of it has been closed off totally, though I suspect that has more to do with the scientists working there than any real damage."

"So they are still working there, making missiles?" 

"I think so, yes," Peter nodded. "I had a chance to have a look around yesterday and they were still working then."

"Damn." Garrison frowned, deep in thought. "Ow!" he yelped as pain suddenly flared through his leg.

"Sorry," the doctor said apologetically. "I think you've got a bit of infection in the wound. I need to clean it up and wrap it again. Peter, could you pass me my bag." He rummaged inside, pulling out a bottle and swabs. "It looks like you've had a wasted journey, Lieutenant and nothing to show for it but this. If only you could have come a day earlier."

Garrison shook his head. "No, not wasted. If they are continuing to work we still need to get in. We'll just have to find another way, that's all." He took a sharp breath as the doctor dabbed antiseptic on the oozing tear in his calf, triggering a cough.

"Shallow breaths," Erlenmeyer advised absently, his mind on the problem of Dolbaden. "But how? What other way is there?"

"Actor?" Garrison appealed to the conman breathlessly, his own mind empty of ideas for once.

The Italian sighed, chewing his lip in thought. "We need a con, something to get us in through the front door. I take it there is no other way in?" he checked.

"No, all other entrances were sealed off as soon as they started work there."

Actor thought for a few moments. "How about an inspection?" he suggested. "Con our way into the building, dump the escort, plant time-delayed charges and walk out."

Garrison considered the plan. It sounded too simple to work but sometimes simple was the best way. "We'll need uniforms, documents. Can you get those for us? By this afternoon?"

Fursland nodded. "It shouldn't be a problem. What do you need?"

"SS," Actor said immediately. "Two officers, one at least a major. Also a car, something big and flashy."

"I have a Daimler," the doctor offered, somewhat reluctantly. "I haven't used it since, well, since I came home," he said gesturing at his stick.

"Do you have plans of the building?"

Peter reached into his jacket and pulled out a packet of papers. Garrison tucked them into his pocket. "I have marked the labs and the office where the safe is. I will go and organise the uniforms and bring them up to the tower as soon as I can," he said, leaving the room the way he had come.

Erlenmeyer finished re-strapping Garrison's knee. "There, try that."

Garrison rose, testing his weight on the leg. The bandaging was firm but didn't impair the mobility of the joint too much and he shook hands with the doctor gratefully. "Thank you."

"A moment, Lieutenant. Don't forget to collect your tisane from Margot as you leave." He saw Garrison's grimace and grinned engagingly. "You really do need it, you know. And when you get home I would advise bed rest for at least three days."

"Thank you, doctor," Actor said, shepherding Garrison towards the door. "I'll make sure he gets it." He paused with his hand on the knob and turned to look back at the German still seated on the desk. "May I ask you something, Doctor?"

"Of course."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Actor!" Garrison rebuked sharply, surprised by the conman's uncharacteristic tactlessness.

"It's alright, Lieutenant," Erlenmeyer said quietly. "It is a reasonable question. I am, after all, working against my own country." He was silent for a few moments, sunk in thought. "I would like to say that it is because the Party is evil and that it is the duty of every god-fearing man to do what he can to bring it down," he finally said, choosing his words with care. "And God knows much of what they've done is wrong but I'm not that noble. I'm doing this because I'm sick of war, of seeing men come back broken like me, if they come back at all. Tired of being afraid, of going without the good things in life, of being hungry. I just want it over so I can start putting my life back together again. I'm sorry if that's not what you wanted to hear but it's the truth."

The two men were silenced by the bitterness evident in the German's voice.

"I don't know that any of us fighting for any better reason than that," Garrison finally said. "In the beginning, maybe but now I think we all just want to go home, pick up the pieces."

"Some of us don't even have that good a reason," Actor added sombrely. "Thank you, Doctor, for your honesty."

"What was that all about?" Garrison asked as they left the doctor's house.

Actor half shrugged. "I just wanted to know why. To remind myself what all this carnage, this _waste_, has been for." An expressive hand gestured around the streets. Although in the heartland of Germany the little town had been spared the worst of the allied bombing raids, still the effects of war could be seen clearly in the pinched faces of the people, the queues already forming for food, the pitifully few vegetables on the market stalls even though this was a rural area.

Garrison was lost in thought for a while as they left the town behind. "It does kinda bring it home to you, doesn't it?" 

"At least this can't go on much longer."

"Not with the Americans pushing from the west and the Russians closing in on the eastern front," Garrison agreed. "A few more months, maybe."

"And then what?"

"The duration and six months, remember?" he reminded the conman lightly.

"Craig." Actor was serious.

Garrison sighed. He had known this conversation was coming, had been consciously avoiding it ever since they had first become lovers, not wanting to think about the realities of their future together.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "Can't this wait? At least until we're home," he pleaded, not feeling up to coping with anything else on top of the mission and his illness.

Actor's mouth tightened. He didn't want to push the younger man into anything, didn't want him to make a quick decision that he'd regret later but it was getting to the stage when a choice would have to be made. When Garrison would have to decide just how important the other man was to him.

"Alright," he agreed. "But we can't keep putting it off."

"I know."

The walked on, the silence taut between them, until they were in sight of the tower once again. At the foot of the mound, Garrison drew his lover into the sparse concealment offered by a rather sorry looking yew hedge.

"Actor… no, Cesare," he corrected himself. "I know I've been dodging the issue but I honestly don't know what we're going to do. I love you and I don't ever want to lose you but if I stay in the regular army…" he shrugged. "We both know that it'll be virtually impossible to stay together. And if I quit the army – well, I'm military born and bred, what else do I know?" He saw the effect of his words in the very blankness of his lover's expression; it was the face the conman wore whilst working, pleasant, bland and utterly inscrutable. It tore at Craig to see it used against him. He pulled Actor into his arms, hands tugging his head down so that he could kiss the taller man. For a moment Actor was stiff in his arms and then his body melted under the tender assault of his lover's mouth and he returned the kiss with a passion. 

Eventually pulling back as his chest began to burn with lack of oxygen, Garrison buried his face in the crook of Actor's neck breathing hoarsely. 

Actor hugged him tightly for a moment and then let his arms drop. "We'd better go. The others will be waiting."

"Yeah. Actor," Garrison stopped him again. "I promise, we _will_ work this out. I love you."

Actor smiled tightly. "Love you, too."

* * *

"Shit!" Garrison swore out loud. 

"What's wrong?" Actor was at his side in moments.

"Look." Garrison thrust his binoculars at the other man and slumped back against the wall, head in his hands, feeling almost close to tears. There had been considerable activity at Dolbaden all morning, more than had seemed normal for such a station, even one that hid a missile development site and he and Actor had gone up to the tower roof to keep an eye on the activity while the other three dressed in the uniforms Peter Fursland had delivered earlier along with his brother-in-law's car and their papers. Everything had finally seemed to be running smoothly; Garrison had even been feeling a little better, the tisane that the doctor had given him – Actor standing over him to make sure he took it – easing the tight feeling in his chest and making it easier to breath without coughing. 

And now this. It was just too much. 

Actor spared him a concerned glance and then took his place at the window embrasure, peering through the narrow slit at the unusual amount of activity on the far side of the river. Both soldiers and civilians were milling around purposefully, loading trucks as they had been for an hour or so. It appeared that Dolbaden really was being abandoned. A surmise made even more certain by the fact that, unless Garrison was very much mistaken, explosive charges were being laid around the entrance to the underground complex.

"Yeah," Actor agreed after a minute. "So now what?" he asked.

Garrison tilted his head back to look at the man standing over him. "We pack up and go home," he said tiredly.

Actor looked at him in surprise. "We go home?" he repeated. 

"Yeah, we go home. What else can we do?" 

"No more last minute changes of plan?" Actor checked. "No sudden desire to go take a look-see anyway?"

Garrison's mouth tilted in an unwilling smile. "What's the point? They're obviously evacuating the place. They're not going to leave anything behind. What they can't carry will be buried under several tons of concrete when those explosives go up. Probably flooded, too, if the reservoir goes. As for an attack on the column… We're unarmed. Besides, they're civilians and …"

"And?" Actor prompted, a slight frown marring his face as the lieutenant looked away, biting his lip. "Warden?" It was unlike Garrison to just give up on a mission, even one that seemed as hopeless as this one.

"Ah, hell, it just doesn't seem worth it," Garrison finally admitted in a low voice. "I mean, the war's virtually over. What the hell difference is this going to make? If there was any chance of getting the plans, then, yeah, I would risk doing something but just to destroy?" He shook his head wearily. "I'm tired of destroying needlessly. I just wanna go home," he said quietly. "What the does that make me?" he asked, finally looking up at Actor again.

The conman looked at him soberly and then held out a hand to the seated man, absurdly pleased when Garrison accepted his help to stand. "Tired. Ill. Human. _Humane,_" he stressed, pulling the younger man close.

Garrison allowed himself to return the hug for a few moments and then pushed away from the comfort of his lover's arms. He took a deep breath, grimacing as it triggered a cough again and then settled his shoulders with a resolute sigh. "Let's go tell the others."

He led the way down to the lower level, hugging the wall as his stiff knee and the progressive gloom made navigating the spiral steps perilous.

"So, Warden, when do we move?" Goniff asked, tugging his uniform jacket into place. "A private again. Why am I…"

"Goniff!" Four voices cut off the thief's familiar grumbling.

"Because it takes class to be an officer. I know, I know," Goniff finished. "But still… Anyway, Warden, are we going now?"

Garrison cast a quick look at Actor. "Yeah. Home. So get all the gear together, I don't want to leave anything here, in case…"

"Home?" Casino broke in, staring at him in surprise. "Whatcha mean, home?"

"I mean the mission's blown. The Germans are moving everything out. Evacuating."

"Bloody 'ell. So that's it, we're just going home?" Goniff was incredulous. "You don't want us to do something heroic and stupid to save the day? Are you feeling alright?"

"No, that's it. Unless you want to stay and attack the column with your bare hands," Garrison replied sarcastically.

"Uh-uh." Casino shook his head emphatically. "No way. Going home is the first sensible thing about this job." He began to unfasten his clothes.

"No, leave the uniform," Garrison told him. "We're going out like this." At their look he elaborated, "we've got the uniforms, the papers, the car… Once we're within reach of allied lines we can dump it but until then, it's ideal."

"You want us to steal the doctor's car?" Actor checked.

Garrison shrugged. "It's either his or someone else's. And frankly, he's not going to need it much, is he?"

"True," the conman agreed but he couldn't help feeling obscurely guilty about the theft. Stealing from people he'd met had never particularly bothered him before – as a conman it was what he did best - but for some reason this did. Erlenmeyer had made him think, to see the German people as victims not just faceless aggressors and it seemed wrong to be taking one of his few remaining precious possessions from him without a by-your-leave but he saw that Garrison was limping again and pushed the guilt to the back of his mind. Getting them all home safely was more important than any scruples of his. With a mental shrug, he went to help the others pack up.

As the others loaded gear into the car Actor held Garrison back for a moment. "Warden? Will there be any trouble over this?" he asked.

Garrison shook his head. "No, it was a screw up right from the start. We've done everything we could. The Brass will know that," he assured him.

Actor didn't let his scepticism show.

* * *

Garrison stood stiffly at attention in front of Colonel Howlet's desk, staring fixedly at a spot directly over his head, and waited for the man to finish.

"…. So it was lucky for you and your men that the Germans decided to pull out." The older man's tone made it all too clear what he thought of Garrison's actions, or rather, lack of action, on the mission. In his opinion, it was little short of cowardice, mutiny even and it was only Garrison's previous record for seemingly miraculous successes in the face of failure and the fact that the base had been destroyed, albeit by the Germans themselves, that had saved him from serious trouble. "That last bombing run must have done more damage than we originally thought. Intel reports have since indicated that they have retreated to Berlin but there is no sign as yet that they are trying to set up again." A dry smile crossed the older man's face, "And even if they do, I doubt that they'll have much chance of success…."

Garrison let the colonel's words wash over him, concentrating fiercely on remaining at attention. The doctor had discovered a torn ligament in the knee area and his leg still ached relentlessly. Added to that, he was still suffering from the effects of the heavy cold he had caught, which had left him with a persistent, chesty cough and frequent feelings of light-headedness as he gasped for breath.

The trip back to England had thankfully gone without a hitch but that had been due rather more to Actor's ability to con his way into, and out of, any situation or, in this case, vehicle, than from any great plans of his own. Thoughts of his lover tumbled about his mind. "_Humane," _Actor had called him when he'd decided to abort the luckless mission. Now here was this overstuffed windbag, who looked as if he'd last seen action in the War of Independence, informing Garrison that his efforts could only be considered luke warm at best. No doubt the man would have been happier if Garrison have taken his men on a suicide mission. It might not have achieved the objective but a do-or-die raid would have looked more spectacular than merely staggering home, tail between their legs. Besides which, Garrison thought cynically, if the Gorillas had been killed it would solve the problem the army had as to what to do with them once the war was over. They had been promised their parole but no matter who Garrison spoke to, no-one in authority seemed to want to confirm that for him. He had a nasty suspicion that the army had never expected to ever have to make good on their promise.

"…So until such time, you and your men can consider yourselves confined to barracks… or whatever the hell you call that place you stay."

Garrison's attention snapped back to the present abruptly and he looked wide-eyed at Howlet. The Colonel turned his attention back to the files piled on his desk but then realising that Garrison had not moved he glanced up and snapped, "That's all… dismissed."

Garrison needed no further bidding. He saluted sharply and doing a smart about turn, ignoring the flash of pain up his leg that the movement caused, marched from the room.

Once the door was closed safely behind him he slowed and, reaching down, rubbed at his injured knee. It was healing nicely and the nightly rubs that Actor had been giving him were doing wonders but it still ached like the devil if he had to stand for long periods of time. Pulling a face, Garrison admitted that Colonel Howlet knew this - a medical assessment had been submitted alongside his report as per usual - and that was no doubt why he had been kept at attention for the hour long stripping off.

"Well?" came a sultry voice from beside him. Turning he met the concerned eyes of his lover and smiled.

"He was not impressed," Garrison said with some irony. "We are confined to the Manor and to consider ourselves firmly told off," he added as he gratefully accepted the walking stick he refused to take into the meeting with the Colonel.

Actor lightly grasped his other arm, lending further support. "Confined to the Manor… my, my," Actor smiled. "What am I going to do to fend off the boredom?" He sighed dramatically, as he carefully assisted his friend along the hall.

Garrison let out a bark of laughter that caused heads to turn but suddenly he was too happy to worry. He had thought that the Colonel might have come down more heavily at his failure to complete the mission, and it resurrected another of his fears as he wondered, not for the first time, whether one failure too many would see the Brass taking his Gorillas away from him and giving them to someone else. Not that he believed they would work for anyone else but the possibility of separation always lurked at the back of his mind, especially since he and Actor had become lovers.

Shaking his head he pushed that thought far from his mind, grateful that the Allied bombing had apparently sent the Germans packing in this case.

"Come on," Actor said quietly, seeing the strain that had suddenly reappeared on his lover's face, the laughter and smile vanishing as though they had never been. "Let's go home and tell the others the good news, then I'll give your knee a massage."

Garrison halted and, turning slightly, looked Actor in the eyes as he asked in a husky tone, "Just the knee or can I nominate other areas?"

Actor swallowed hard at the look and the fire that flashed in his lover's eyes and he answered, suddenly breathless, "Well I suppose you could nominate other areas but I might not use the methyl rub on them… Don't want to damage anything, do we?" he finished with a slight smile.

Garrison grimaced as he remembered the heat that the rub engendered around his injured knee. "Definitely not," he agreed. "I don't mind heat in that area but I prefer it to come from something other than horse liniment!" he added with a faint grin.

Actor gently motioned for Garrison to continue down the corridor as he suggested, "Well I can certainly think of one way of getting my… er, heat… into your body."

Garrison snickered and then waved his hand in defeat. "Okay, pal, once we're home I'm all yours."

Actor let a small smile of victory cross his features as he steered his friend and lover from the building. As they entered the car, Actor leant forward and whispered in Garrison's ear, "And I'm all yours."


End file.
